absence

The next 2 weeks I won’t really have any time to update here. John’s got the next week off, so we’ve got some stuff planned around that. Plus it’s conference week at Kidlings school (so half-days), as well as the parent-teacher conference and the 4th grade play. Oh, then the week after is spring break for Kidling, so he’ll be home all day.
I can tell you now who’ll be begging for his attention.

I realized something when John and I were choosing the parent-teacher conference date — John has managed to be available for every single parent teacher conference Kidling has had, despite working full time and commuting an hour or more a day for a bit there. That’s pretty brilliant. I remember after Kidling was born, John would juggle his schedule and do whatever he could to make every doctor’s appointment, too.

Anyway, point is, I won’t really have any “me time” to write or anything. So instead, I’m going to start moving a few of my Livejournal entries over here. I started my Livejournal blog back in 2006, right after John and I separated. I just kind of wrote about whatever, like I do here. Actually, kind of funny — I transferred my whole blog “identity” and everything over here in an attempt to edit myself. I was going to have livejournal be my “private” blog and this be my “public” blog, but I realized pretty damn quickly that I can’t think of anything to write if I’m constantly trying to hide my more controversial opinions and views.
So, without further ado, here’s my first livejournal entry:
My reaction to and analyzation of Fanfiction
09-30-2006

I like to read.  I always have.  When I don’t have any books available, I go online and look for short, free, net-published fics.  It’s amusing and interesting and occasionally thought-provoking.  My only real issue with net-published fics is the appalling amount of angst-driven teenagers hashing out their personal issues in a fictional setting.  Christ, those kids annoy me.  Usually because they have no talent or subtlety whatsoever.  I don’t know what higher power told them that knowing big words means knowing how to write, but they were wrong.  There’s this thing called flow, and it’s often interrupted when you bog down the story with interminable details.  Like what, exactly, the protagonist is wearing.  And how he’s sitting.  And millions of other things that could be used, in brief description.  Instead, these aspiring writers describe these small, unimportant details in long, page-consuming sentences and paragraphs.


I think the problem here is that many teenagers are having problems with self-identification.  They tend to separate people into categories, and judge them by clothing and known interests.  I’m not talking about the normal peer-groups, such as preppy, goth, stoner, etc.  I’m talking about what these kids feel – even if subconsciously – about their peers.  Are they unique, interesting?  Are they crowd-followers, willing to go along with the fashion in order not to be noticed?  Are they supposedly ‘normal’, but with deep wells of unappreciated, hidden depths?  From what I remember of those not-so-long ago years, as well as what I can glean from the substandard writing, most teens feel they themselves are in the third category, and separate everyone else into the first two.
This is their mistake, and their curse.  Even the most under-appreciated kid, with the most hidden-depths, needs to realize that the grand design of life is not a personal attack.  Everyone is so worried about their own presentation, their own hidden depths that they may or may not want plumbed, that whatever they’re doing or saying is only a defense mechanism.  Understand this: when you consider yourself and possibly your group of friends the only unique, misunderstood people, you’re being incredibly unfair.  Maybe you think that you’re presenting an accurate representation of yourself to the world.  Maybe you are.  Much more likely, you’re hiding behind some mask or persona, letting most people only see bits and pieces of you.  And if you can do that, why can’t everyone else?  Why can’t those seemingly drone-like crowd-followers, those vicious tormentors who laugh at you in the halls be hiding bits and pieces of themselves?  Why must they be only what they present, while you have hidden depths and strong emotions?
I’m not so incredibly out of touch that I don’t realize that there are some who are unnecessarily cruel, vicious, and petty.  There are some who seem to (and perhaps do, to an extent) enjoy that cruelty.  I also am still young enough that I realize that all those methods of dealing with them that guidance counselors, teachers, and parents recommend don’t necessarily work.  When you’ve been ostracized, there’s not much you can do to correct it.  Befriending the ‘enemy’ isn’t usually an option.  Ignoring them works occasionally, but sometimes random pettiness still strikes.  The main defense available is more a salve to your pride than anything – to mock them behind their backs.  The thing is, it won’t matter in five, ten years.  As much as it seems to matter now, it won’t.  When high school and all those angst-ridden years have passed, life goes on.  In fact, high school is a small bleep in the scheme of things.  It’s a loud bleep, a bleep that will probably have echoing repercussions over the whole of your life if you don’t deal with the issues brought up during those years, but a bleep it is.  Get over yourselves and understand that while you are special and unique and interesting – guess what?  So are they.
Also, do everyone a favor and take some creative writing courses.  If you’re going to continue plaguing the net with your problems, at least learn to do it well.
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